


Punishments, until deemed punished.

by SlySama



Series: Punishment Tales [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry friends, Confused Harry, Corporal Punishment, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Re-do First Time Blow Jobs, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 17:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12304251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: Harry is in immense pain, he's slept for 6 hours against the wall outside the Tower because the Portrait's nasty when woken up during the night and he wasn't in the mood. He's careless with his secrecy in the bathroom and isn't sure he can convince Neville not to tell--He doesn't. He's smacked on the back, he's not sure he doesn't do the second stupidest thing of his life and only in two days and he's frightened into a chair by his caged best friends.At least it worked out with an explanation, "Thanks Hermione" now, he's just waiting for the rest of his punishments because he's sure that it's not finished with a simple clean of the private Lab.





	Punishments, until deemed punished.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that privilege and ownership belongs to J.K Rowling herself.  
I merely borrow them to write some fanfictions that hopefully are enjoyed by those that read them :) I make no money out of it.

 

Returning to Gryffindor Tower was excruciating. His legs hurt, his ass hurt, his back hurt. His head pulsed with every harsh step up every staircase. The way was torture but Harry had no other way then to endure it and make his way painfully up so very, very many staircases. 

Why must Gryffindor have to be set up in one of the highest towers of Hogwarts? What in all things magical possessed Godric Gryffindor to make his House so freaking high up?! 

Finally, with heaving breaths and libs so close to collapsing right out from under him Harry made it to stand before the portrait of the Fat Lady—who guarded Gryffindor’s Tower, and who was unfortunately very much asleep. 

Sigh. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry let it out raggedly as he leaned up against the wall she guarded. He felt tired, completely exhausted, partially numb and downright in pain, utterly out of energy and not in the least bit ready to wake Her up and get an earful of her shrill demands to know where he had been and why he was waking her at such an ungodly hour to be let in; she was always in a foul mood if woken up so early in the morning. 

It was morning, very early morning. Two in the morning probably. Harry had no doubts that most of the Gryffs that had been partying inside were now either asleep or had simply drunk themselves into a stupor long ago. He sighed again and got ready to pass out here next to the entrance of his house; he couldn’t have moved now even if he had wanted too, his legs had given out and fallen asleep minutes ago, whist he’d debated whether to wake her and sleep in his own comfy bed or on the hard floor of one of the seventh-floor corridors. 

//

‘Harry?’ 

‘Mione? Why are you blocking the Portrait hole, other people want to go to breakfast too.’ 

‘Hush Ronald, I found Harry.’ She stepped down and side-stepped, her finger and face turned toward where Harry lay. His head was to the side against the stone that she was sure he would have a dreadful headache when he finally woke and a definite numbness when he stood as his legs were thrown out awkwardly in front of him. It can’t have been comfortable. 

‘Mate? Harry, man, wake up.’ He took the two steps to his best friend and shook the other teen until he heard him whimper a moan. 

‘Ow…’ Harry groaned and straightened himself up, feeling like he’d been crushed by a tonne of boulders and then been run over by stampeding hippogriffs. ‘Ow…my head…’ 

“And back, and ass, and legs, FUCK!” 

He stumbled to his feet, using the wall as leverage to get him into such a position as standing. His entire lower half spasmed as he did so and he shut his eyes tight as he felt the excruciating pins and needles that spanned him. 

‘Why are you here mate?’ 

‘I didn’t want to wake her…’ He jerked his thumb at the now only half-awake Fat Lady. They nodded in understanding, having been on more than one occasion severely reprimanded by her themselves. You know, when the three of them would sneak out each night in the six years they’d attended Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. 

‘How are you feeling Harry?’ 

He chuckled painfully, ‘Like I’ve been buried under boulders and trampled by stampeding Hippogriffs. You guys?’ he asked, waving vaguely as he tried to bang some feeling back into his supporting limbs. 

‘As I did not drink bar a bottle of Butterbeer, and happened to go to bed early because I cared that we had classes today, I am perfectly well.’ She crossed her arms, her tone superior. 

Ron shrugged, ‘Took a Hangover Potion. Could be worse, I could feel like you or worse yet, I could look like you; you look like shit Harry.’ He clarified when Harry blinked. 

‘Gee, thanks Ron.’ He fixed his lopsided glasses as an afterthought and motioned to the partially opened portal where other students had begun to spill forth. ‘I think I’ll go take a shower, meet you down in the Great Hall?’ They nodded and with a pitying sympathetic look passing in her brown eyes Hermione handed him a small bottle of Hangover cure. He gave a thankful smile and a large, if only painful for him, hug to her before stepping carefully into the common room. 

Damn but did his limbs and brain hurt; his ass hurt too but since it had been some hours past the pain had considerably dimmed, that, or it had simply gone numb with the rest of him. Now, to have that shower as he’d said he would and take a looksee at his wounds. 

//

As he stepped into the boy’s shower block, he half turned and hoped as his eyes widened that his friends hadn’t seen the state of his back. His white shirt was covered in spattering blood stains that had darkened over the hours—he looked like he’d been whipped or something, though granted it had been a dungeon wall it hadn’t been any less painful than a whipping might be as the wall had been raggedly sharp. He’d completely forgotten them in the heat of the moment in Snape’s quarters, to worried about his bleeding head and the punishment that had followed—he’d have scars now. He pouted. 

But at least he had thought of his knees, after removing his clothes he stared at the tightly wound bandages that Snape had placed there. He removed them and winced at the bruising but at least he wouldn’t have scars here even if his multiple falls on his way up to the Tower had reopened the newly closed injuries and they had bled once more. They weren’t bleeding now, so he assumed they’d be alright. 

His brain seemed fine too, just a small bump remained on the back of his head from where he’d smashed into the dungeon concrete wall when Snape had blown him backwards with a stunner. Harry supposed it was probably his fault for refusing to follow the man back to his private rooms though… He shrugged, wincing as the wounds on his back stretched taut. He felt one or two tear as he rolled his shoulders again, having to get rid of the stiffness that came from sleeping against a wall for roughly six hours straight. 

Mostly moving slowly Harry kicked his feet from his pants and stepped under the shower head. The magic induced water almost immediately sprayed down onto the top of his messy raven head; it’s temperature changing to suit his tastes seconds later. 

He sighed in contentment. Though it stung as the water pelted onto his back and his still red handprinted ass, slightly bruised, it felt good. It was satisfying to know that the wounds were being properly cleaned by some fresh water, that the pain was being soothed by whatever properties that swam through the faucets. 

He sighed again and tilted his head backwards, allowing the water to wash over his wary face and down his toned chest. His eyes were closed and his hands behind him, helping to stay standing as he pushed them against the tiled cubical wall. It was good, really nice and so he let his mind wander—though he tried not to let it wander to much as he didn’t want to think that his first time sucking a man off had been with Snape in an abandoned corridor, in the middle of the night, whilst he was intoxicated, and being forced…He certainly didn’t want to think it whilst he was naked in the shower. 

Even slightly thinking about not thinking about it, knowing it was wrong in so many ways his rebellious appendage gave a little pulse and swelled minutely between his legs. 

He kept his eyes tightly shut and bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to think about it, he’d never imagined he’d be forced to do something so intimate by his Professor of all things. It wasn’t so much that it had been Snape…He thought, but that he’d been forced by the man to do it against his will. It had been his first time… He didn’t like that his first memory of giving fellatio was against his will. He shook his wet strands and willed his partial erection away; his hands remained firmly behind him and away from such a recalcitrant appendage. 

“Imagine something else, something else, Harry! Um…Draco Malfoy?’ Even inside his head the voice sounded dubious. It unfortunately did nothing to erase his erection, go figure, if anything it liked the image of Draco Malfoy and this caused Harry to vehemently shake his wet hair, ending this image of an annoying, self-important, self-loving, pompous, egotistical white-haired, beautiful, shining, porcelain smooth, prat. 

Now…He had more of a problem then he’d first started out with. He sighed, staring momentarily downwards before shutting his emerald orbs again and trying to think of something else, anything else. 

His best friend Ron? 

Hmm…He shivered a bit, well it flagged a smidgen and a half. 

The Giant Squid in the Black Lake? 

Hmm…A little more…But there might be something to that. It needed to be worse. Worse, something worse than a slimy perverted Giant Cephalopod? 

Uh… “Oh!” 

Argus Flinch. 

Argus Flinch in a tutu dancing around with Mrs. Norris and making kissy faces. 

Yup. Yup. Ew. ‘Ehhhhhh’ Harry shivered and looked down, watching as well as feeling his erection deflate and subside; he was almost worried it would be permanent after that dreadful image. Once again able to enjoy his wash, as much as he could, he allowed himself to finish showering humming under his breath, happy that he hadn’t had to resort to any unnecessary movement of muscles and thoughts. 

He and his cock had very different tastes in me—In things. 

He shook himself briefly and stepped out of the cubicle, grabbing the closest white towel and beginning to towel himself dry; he hated drying charms. He’d been halfway through drying his hair with another that he’d found, wincing every second shake as it pulled on his back muscles and the wounds that lay thereon, when a gasp was heard behind him. He had been faced away from the doorway so that he hadn’t noticed anyone enter or been expecting anyone too and turned slowly, hands still holding the towel to his hair. 

‘Neville…?’ 

‘H-Harry your back…’ He stuttered, a finger just barely pointing. 

“Shit.” Fresh and clean, the wounds would be clearly open to be seen that they were bad. 

‘It’s nothing Nev, why aren’t you at breakfast?’ He lowered the towel, still wincing and laid it atop the counter with his bloodied clothes, using it as a hider. He hoped Neville hadn’t already noticed the amount of red on his shirt. If he did though, he didn’t say anything. He simply swallowed, slightly narrowed his eyes at Harry’s reply and answered Harry’s question in something akin to a daze. 

‘I was asked to come see if you were still coming to breakfast. It’s almost over. You’ve been up here for almost half an hour.’ 

‘Oh…’ Apparently it had taken a lot longer than he had thought. ‘I’ll uh, come down now. If you want to wait, you can wait in the common room for me…While I get dressed.’ Neville Longbottom slowly nodded, eyes clearly still watching and turned slowly, heading out and down the stairs to wait, presumably. 

Harry let out a breath, a deep heavy sigh and finished patting himself dry trying figure out how he was going to explain his wounds or even if he would have too; maybe Neville wouldn’t say anything and maybe he wouldn’t ask? 

A breath freshening charm after a toothbrush scrub and a useless brush through his hair later, he was walking out in a towel, quickly shoving his torn and bloodied clothes in his trunk under a bunch of other stuff, hopefully hidden well and long enough until he could either clean them or dispose of them or fix them in the case of his Leather trousers—Snape had torn the button clean off last night, quickly but carefully dressed in his school uniform, white collared shirt, his robe, his briefs, his black trousers, his sneakers, and donned his knapsack before heading down the stairs to meet a presumably waiting Neville in the common room to head to the rest of breakfast in a completely awkward silence. 

‘Neville um…’ They were only one staircase away from the Great Hall now and Harry had finally just worked up the courage to try and talk to the other teen. 

‘You don’t want me to say anything do you?’ He asked. The shy boy he remembered from years gone by had certainly gone, no longer chubby but a handsome brave man, that he didn’t cower and stood up to his friends with fire in his brown eyes. Harry blinked, he was actually proud to share a house, a dorm, and be a day younger than him. 

Neville was not stupid either, he had wizened up over the years as well. It seemed, even if Harry kind of wished he were in that moment. How could he possibly explain the reason why he didn’t wish the other male to say anything, though? 

‘No, I don’t...’ He said, eyes downcast to his shoes as he paused on the step above. 

‘Are you going to tell me why Harry?’ 

The Great Hall loomed in front of them as they slowly proceeded down the staircases. 

‘…No…’ Harry shook his head. 

Neville stopped and sighed, turning to face Harry once more a step above the sandy haired teen and only then did Harry notice that the other male had grown taller than he. ‘You want me to stay silent and not mention that—’ Harry assumed he was wanting to point to Harry’s back but only succeeded in pointing at Harry’s chest. ‘…Your back, to both Hermione and Ron, your best friends, even though you won’t tell me the reason Harry?’ He stared and shook his head, going on before Harry could even open his mouth. ‘I won’t even pretend to understand why or what would possess you to keep something so…That, a secret from your friends.’ 

Harry knew Neville wasn’t just talking about Ron and Hermione there either. He sighed, ‘Look Neville—

‘No Harry, I’m sorry. But I can’t do that.’ His voice was determined and Harry felt like he’d known it, that he should have known it, that Neville was too sweet, too kind-hearted, too…too Neville to keep such a secret without knowing the reasons himself. 

‘I can’t stop you?’ He chewed the inside of his cheek, something that seems to have quickly become a bad habit. Like biting his fingernails, they were clenching beside his thighs. 

Neville gave him a look and turned to keep walking, ‘Would you tell me why?’ 

‘No…’ Harry’s voice was quiet. 

‘Then no.’ He took the steps until he was standing before the Great Hall doors. Closed against the oddly chilly wind from outside. ‘Sorry Harry.’ He said, then he opened them, continuing into the silence of the Hall. Feeling like he wanted to whack his head back against a wall for being so stupid and careless, the raven swore and straightened his back the best he could—intent on confronting his friends, now that he had no choice. 

The silence was deafening, odd considering it was silent…When Harry stepped in and stalled between the double doors. He was suddenly worried of what his friend’s reactions would be and what kind of questions they would ask and how he could even answer such questions if they did ask. 

Hermione strode forward then, tripping slightly over her own feet as her skirt caught a fraction on the bench she’d been sitting on. Her brown eyes were glinting as she advanced but Harry wasn’t quite sure he knew what the emotions were—he was almost definite he didn’t want to see them unleashed though. How was he supposed to react? 

‘It took you long enough, we’d thought you’d got sucked down the drain pipe by Myrtle.’ Her words were strained as she spoke and her laughing smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, nor, did her eyes really meet that of his when she spoke. He jerked forward and hissed in extreme pain when a sudden sharp slap in the middle of his back propelled him forwards, tripping over his own feet. Why, the fuck, had she done that?! He turned, stilling himself with arms out wide and gave her his nastiest glare; it was of course filled with pain so it might not have been very effective, she certainly didn’t seem to have much of a reaction. 

Besides, that of her eyes alighting; had she been testing Neville’s words? 

‘Sit down, eat breakfast, go to class. We’ll talk afterwards.’ She whispered this lowly as she strode passed him and sat herself back down. She ignored him as he sat and he stared at her and Ron who was filling his face—his eyes were just as angry. 

That was it? Neville had told them and that was it? Was she going to wait and Ron going to wait before they blew up at him at their “talk”? 

He swallowed. His nerves springing to life and threatening to make him ill. He’d never really seen Hermione angry before, not properly. He was afraid of what that entailed. Did she have to smack her palm on his wounded back though? That’d hadn’t been called for… 

They could have asked, it wasn’t like he’d lie after Neville already told them. 

The silence in the Hall remained, save for a few whispers here and there trying to understand what had just transpired between the duo, as Ron had remained seated. Would it be worse, he wondered, to receive punishment from his Professor that night, or from his best friends? Which was worse? His friends anger when he avoided their “talk” that night for “detention” or Snape’s anger when he ditched him for his friends and their “talk”? He swallowed again and gripped the edge of the table tightly, his plate went untouched and as the bell chimed for classes, his stomach growled its dissent. 

‘We have potions first thing this morning. It’s a double period.’ Hermione stood, her bag in her hand and began to leave. Ron followed with a few choice mutterings about the session and Snape and the dry bacon he was still eating. Neither of them waited from their friend to follow. 

He sighed disheartened. 

“It’s going to be a long day.” He thought, standing up and trudging after them with only one hesitant look behind him at their moving Potions Master. The man didn’t look at all perturbed by the events that had played out but his dark eyes held a hint of disapproval when they met Harry’s for the briefest of seconds. 

His long legs stalked down the stairs then and rushed out of the Hall, navigating his way expertly through the throng of dawdling students to beat them down into the dungeons and to his classroom. 

Harry doubted the man wouldn’t already be there when they arrived. 

// 

Coincidently, Harry laughed, taking the last step into the dungeons and rounding the corner, there the man was, arms crossed and leaning against the stone beside the wood and iron door. His black eyes were foreboding as he surveyed all his seventh and eighth year students—it wasn’t actually that big of a class actually—most of whom had only just arrived like Harry had. He had some ideas why Snape was looking irritated. He’d beat his own students to their classroom and he’d been behind all of them in the Great Hall. 

Harry silently shook his head with a bemused smile of his face before suddenly fell. Something had appeared and it was pressing into his back. 

Ow. 

Hermione again? 

No…Turning his head slowly, Harry, saw a black robe sleeve with an inner lining of green and sighed in annoyance. ‘Do you mind moving?’ He took a step forward but whoever the Slytherin was, they followed him. The finger firmly pressing into a rather bad spot in the middle of his back remained. He could feel that the skin was already beginning to bleed, it was making him want to squirm. 

‘Move?’ He questioned, his tone demanding but again, the person didn’t answer nor did they move. Starting to get extremely irritated and more than a little in pain—the blood probably now seeped into his clothes as it dripped down his skin but he spun around, not really thinking with a yelp. As he had turned, this person having obviously not expected the movement actually dug their finger or whatever it was in deeper—hence Harry’s yelp of pain. This digging caused more of a rip in his skin under his clothes; he felt it. The blood was flowing more freely and so he actually did squirm as he growled, ‘Malfoy.’ 

‘Easy Potter.’ He held his hands at chest level, a smirk clearly displayed on his pink lips. ‘Are you alright Scarhead? You look a bit pale.’ 

‘M Fine, Malfoy.’ He growled. ‘Don’t touch me.’ He narrowed his green eyes behind his lenses and tried not squirm even more as the blood dripped under his pants. 

‘Touch you? I haven’t done any such thing Potter. Now if you don’t mind, move out of the way because you’re blocking it; we’re going in.’ He pointed behind Harry’s head with eyebrows raised and waited. With annoyance clear in every part of his body and suspicion etched into his emerald eyes Harry stepped out of the way. He couldn’t move however except if he were able to move through walls as there was a wall on his left and people on his right. Malfoy stepped around regardless with a haunty nod and waltzed into the classroom—quite snickers followed in his wake. 

The prat had obviously been the one to shove his finger into Harry’s back and unfortunately made it evidently worse than it had been or could have been. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into the cool of the stone wall and inhaled the dampness deeply. The pain, my god the pain. 

The prat might have just torn the skin completely in two… 

‘Mister Potter, what are you doing?’ 

The voice belonged to Snape as he turned around slowly, his eyes unbeknownst to himself shimmering with unshed tears. ‘Sorry sir?’ he asked. 

‘I asked what you were doing. The rest of your classmates have already entered and are inside preparing their work benches.’ He raised a black eyebrow, his frame now leaning on the doorframe instead with his arms still crossed. 

Harry shook himself, ‘Sorry sir.’ He took the steps to his Professor and paused only secondly as the man gave him a funny look. Funny, because he couldn’t quite make out what it had been. It certainly wouldn’t have been concern, Harry was sure of that. He nodded mentally to himself as he pulled out his stool and sat, preparing his work bench for making another of those potions they’d already made this year. They were halfway through Potions and Harry was about stick in his shrivel fig when he suddenly felt a slap to his back. ‘AH!’ He jerked forward, barely missing dropping his shrivel fig into his potion wrong—it went flying to the next table in front of him instead and they turned frowning. Actually, the whole class did this. He swallowed when the hand pressed further into the middle of his back and black hair appeared in his peripheral. Black hair? He frowned. 

‘Is there something wrong Mister Potter? One does not usually…scream, when a hand is placed on their back. I was attempting to warn you that you were about to do something meaninglessly stupid. You are not to put the shrivel fig in yet.’ He pointed with his unmoved hand. ‘The board.’ 

Huff. 

Huff. 

Huff. 

Huff. 

He didn’t care.  
His breaths were ragged as he spoke to the hair. ‘No, sir. Nothing, nothing’s wrong.’ 

‘Indeed? Then you won’t mind me taking a look?’ His hands almost immediately went for Harry’s robes, peeling them away. The gasps were heard everywhere in the room as he did so—Harry was sure, 100% that there was now blood seeped into his school shirt, staining it entirely red. ‘Nothing was it?’ Why did Snape even care? He shouldn’t even be trying to undress Harry in class. 

‘Take this off, Mister Potter.’ He tapped Harry’s shirt but Harry remained resolutely still. He reiterated his thought about undressing. 

‘Now Potter, I doubt you would appreciate me doing it.’ 

Yeah, he was probably right about that… 

Slowly and with extreme care, unsure why this was happening right now, barely breathing at all, Harry unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers shaking and his whole body wincing, he pulled the rest of his shirt down. He left it hanging onto his elbows as that was the furthest it would go without more pain and the subsequent continued tearing of broken skin. Harry closed his eyes, and willed the tears at bay as the tips of fingers pressed to his unbroken skin but all too close to the broken tissue. He had no doubts the Professor was thinking hard, processing where he’d gotten them and trying hard not to say something that might suggest he’d done it himself. 

‘You have not been to see Madam Pomfrey.’ It was not a question. 

Harry shook his head anyway. 

‘These wounds…’ 

Harry remained silent. 

A heavy sigh was heard before the man spoke clearly. ‘Did you acquire these last night?’ Harry slowly nodded, afraid to actually verbalise—he wasn’t even sure he could right that minute. His teeth were so tightly clenched together. ‘How?’ A cold wand tip pressed against the wounds and Harry’s teeth clenched further. 

The entire room was silent, waiting with bated breath for the answer to their nosey questions. 

‘Did you fall?’ He asked. 

Harry nodded. ‘Yes, but…’ His voice was strained, his knuckles white around the bench. 

‘You hit something clearly.’ 

‘I um…’ Harry chewed his lip, conscious of everyone’s ear. ‘I smacked it against a wall.’ 

‘It could not have possibly gotten this bad simply from that?’ 

Harry shook his head, uncaring if he angered people. ‘It tears when I move, when I lift up my shoulders and arms. People have also been whacking it and prodding it all morning.’ 

‘Whacking, prodding it, Mister Potter?’ His voice had for some reason become harder, then he grabbed for Harry’s elbow, forcing him to stand and face him. ‘Follow me, now. The rest of you…make your potions.’ Quickly he forced them through a door behind the teacher’s desk. 

Harry only realised where his Professor had taken him when he looked up. The door must have led to the man’s chambers, convenient Harry supposed but obviously well locked against intruders such as Harry himself as students would have a field day destroying such quaint living quarters if they knew. ‘Sit.’ He pointed down to the sofa Harry had only just been on that night. He obliged the teacher when Snape continued to stand and wait impatiently, the air around him becoming thick with irritation. 

‘I shouldn’t have to explain to you that wounds such as these can fester if not tended to straight away. How much stupider can you possibly be Potter?’ he pinched the bridge of his nose as he accioed the first aid kit he’d only just used several hours earlier on the exact same boy he was about to use it on again. ‘Turn around, sit still and remain silent. I do not want to hear a word pass through those lips. Understood?’ Harry nodded silent as he turned and crossed his legs, his back now on full view for his most hated Professor—not that you know, much more hadn’t been on view for the same man earlier. Which rightly, still bothered Harry quite a lot… 

‘Sir um…’ 

‘No Potter.’ His hand came down harshly on the back if Harry’s head, making him wince, cry out and mutter. ‘I believe I had just told you to remain silent. that was warning one. Don’t do it again.’ In answer, Harry remained silent, leaning his forehead against the green cushions that adorned the sofa. His eyes, without his consent, started to map out all the fine little threads woven into them that made a pretty intricate pattern; Several sighs came from behind him but the one constant thing Harry felt on his back was Snape’s ebony wand and the mutterings of a spell that sounded oddly familiar and almost like a melody or a lullaby one would hum to their small child. 

It was painful, his skin being knotted back together, almost too harsh for his senses. His body was trembling. His eyes were red rimmed and sore and equally blurry, trying hard to keep the tears at bay. His back was now starting to itch—he was in constant pain. It really, really hurt and Snape wasn’t doing a thing to ease the pain Harry felt. 

He’d spoken one other time and once again he had only gotten out two words before Snape’s had had come crashing down on the top of his head. His words warning him if Harry spoke without permission again, he was going to receive real punishment and his classmates were going to hear every little sound he made because the man had neither spelled the door locked or soundproof—anyone could walk in, if they were brave enough and see if Snape took Harry over his knee again. 

It was 10 minutes before Snape spoke again, his voice louder than a whisper. ‘Well, you’re healed. The scars you’ll live your life with can be blamed on your own stupidity in not telling me last night when you were in my chambers and having everything else healed.’ He shook his ebony head as Harry turned around slowly. There was still quite a lot of pain but he kept silent…for another two minutes. A staring contest ensued between them as neither spoke or made a move to stand up. 

‘Sir, um…I want to ask why you—

‘Stop.’ Harry swallowed as Snape stood to his feet, hand held up as the other helped him from the coffee table he’d positioned himself atop. ‘Whatever it is, I’m sure you don’t actually want the answer.’ 

He probably didn’t… 

‘Whydidyouforcemetosuckyouoff?’ he rushed it out in one breath, hands between his thighs. 

Snape stood blinking for a second before his eyes lit with understanding. ‘Did you really want the answer to that Potter?’ 

Hesitating only a minute, Harry nodded. 

‘Revenge.’ 

‘Revenge?’ Harry queried. So, he’d been right? Severus inclined his head, a silent reply. 

‘Doyou…Do you like that sort of thing?’ he questioned, unsure. 

‘Potter…’ It was wary. 

‘Please?’ He was still sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking up at the Professor. 

A heavy sigh, ‘This is neither the time nor the place.’ 

‘Isn’t it the right place though?’ He felt he had to at least have that. 

Severus shook his head at the reckless teen. ‘I do not like forcing people to touch me, no.’ 

‘Then…’ He lifted one hand up. 

‘I already told you. It was revenge, Mister Potter.’ 

‘You don’t…feel bad?’ He asked. 

‘Feel bad? Hmm…If I said sort of, would it make any difference to your self-confidence?’ 

Harry blinked and shrugged, ‘Not a clue.’ 

Another large sigh was exhaled and Severus lowered himself down to the boy’s level, looking him squarely in the eyes. ‘If it is any consolation, it wasn’t very bad. I’m sure…’ He rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘That whomever you like won’t care if you’ve done it before…’ 

Harry just blinked. 

‘With the rumours I have heard, not that I make it a habit to listen to the students’ idle gossip but one doesn’t have much choice half the time. You’ve probably done it before anyway…’ 

Harry blinked again and then slowly shook his head. ‘No…No I haven’t.’ 

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, unbelieving that he was actually having this conversation with the spawn of Potter. ‘Mister Potter…’ 

Harry licked his lips, ‘Do you like guys?’ 

‘Do I…?’ He stopped himself and narrowed his eyes on the teen sitting on his sofa. ‘If I had not, would I have even thought of making you suck my penis?’ 

Harry shrugged. 

‘Do you wish me to do it again because Potter—

Harry quickly shook his head. ‘No. no, I don’t want that.’ 

‘Then why are you asking these questions?’ 

‘I just…’ He bit the inside of his cheek. ‘Wait…’ His eyes narrowed a second. 

‘Would you want that?’ he ventured. 

‘Would I what?’ Severus was quickly becoming concerned with this conversation. 

Harry just stared him down. 

‘Potter, did I not just say—

‘I know what you said sir, I don’t mean it as revenge, I mean just—

‘Ah, I see. Now I understand. Why would you think I would want that?’ 

Harry shrugged, beginning to feel really overwhelmed and more than a little foolish. He’d thought more about the previous 7-8 hours whilst he’d been asleep, whilst he’d gotten dressed and whilst he’d been walking toward the dungeons and leaning against the wall and though he didn’t want to think of being forced to do something sexual, in the shower, the idea wasn’t wholly unappealing, well, the intimacy not the forcing…for a strange and bazaar reason Harry hadn’t quite got up the nerve to ask himself yet. ‘Are you trying to propose something here Potter?’ 

Harry looked down then back up, leaning closer to his teacher. ‘I don’t want to think of my first time as being forced…Apparently I already have rumours about my orientation that I didn’t even know were circling.’ 

Severus eyebrows rose. ‘And yet you would go back to the very person that did force you?’ 

‘You said revenge, you’ve accomplished that. Right?’ 

Snape slowly, ‘I suppose so.’ 

‘And you’ve nothing against me personally?’ 

‘…Not wholly, no.’ He was young, handsome, had some calculating brains that he just needed to be taught how to use without doing something reckless and stupid and had the kindness that Lily had when she was alive. He sighed. 

‘So…’ Harry bit his tongue and waited. 

Severus blinked and stared at the teen a moment longer before standing to his feet and placing himself beside the teen on the sofa. ‘You are proposing that you suck me off once more, because you don’t wish to think your first time was of being forced to do so, that correct?’ Harry nodded, still sitting in the same position. ‘Are you prepared for the consequences should someone even gossip that you have done so with me?’ Harry nodded again, this time slower. 

‘This is the only time?’ Harry smiled a little, sensing where the answer lay and nodded. A great sigh and his Professor was grabbing him by the knees and turning him forcefully around. ‘Very well. This once, to make your life so much easier, but I warn you, you are treading into dangerous territory with this and you will not get out of being further punished for satisfying me.’ Harry nodded, lip twitching. He’d figured as much. 

Severus raised his hands and inclined his head; obviously a go ahead to do so right now. 

Harry’s green eyes flickered to the door; the sound of locks clicking into place and magic enveloping the wood came seconds later and Harry swallowed. He was really about to do this. Wow. This could easily be the second stupidest thing he’d ever done in his entire life…But he’d wanted to do it himself…So… “Here goes” he thought. Shaking hands reached to unbutton Snape’s trousers. He noticed immediately that the older male had become semi-hard already. Pressing his hand to the others impressive cloth covered bulge, the raven swallowed again and eyed the Master one last time. 

Snape rolled his eyes and slipped his hand inside, pulling out his member from between his dark blue underwear—they were same type Harry wore—and eyed Harry with raised eyebrow. 

Though Harry had seen it before and knew it was rather impressive in length and width, he still couldn’t help the look of hesitation that took over his wary features. 

‘Are you sure about this Potter?’ 

Slowly Harry nodded and with slow movements he lowered his head and mouth onto Snape’s large cock; it was salty with pre-cum and silky but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating as it had been before as now it sat snuggly in his palm, still against the roof of his mouth. 

The man attached and above him, groaned softly and a hand appeared suddenly in front of his face; he froze, tongue pressed against the vein. 

‘Remove your glasses boy, I don’t want to feel that.’ They were roughly pulled off and thrown onto the neighbouring armchair before Harry was allowed to place the shaft once more inside his mouth properly. He licked and sucked and pressed the tip of his wet tongue to the underside, wanting to hear all the little moans and groans that came forth from his stoic teacher’s mouth. They were nice sounds, now that he could appreciate them better. 

‘Hah.’ ‘Hah.’ Snape’s breaths were sharp as Harry continued to suck, really trying to hear those sounds and experience the right way to give someone head. His hand appeared at some point while he sucked down half of the thing, choking a little but trying to breathe through his nose; difficult but not impossible. Snape’s fingers tangled through Harry’s messy hair and pushed and pulled in the right moments to prolong the pleasure. Harry went with it, humming a little at one point and then did it multiple times after when he heard the most wonderful sound escape Snape’s partly parted lips. His moans were orgasmic, and Harry moaned his own, he was so close to shooting his own load and he’d not even been touched; he was woefully trapped inside his own pants and he was sure that was a wet patch on his underwear. 

He did not expect Snape to do anything in the first place, so giving Snape head was enough and his dick began to pulse; so very, very close. 

// 

Harry wasn’t sure which was worse; being yelled at by his friends or knowing the exact face Snape was going to make when he missed that punishment he’d meant to attend that night for destroying the man’s personal Laboratory and four months-worth of time spent painstakingly making potions for Madam Pomfrey and by extension for the students, that had been aligned on the desks Harry’d upturned and therefore, splattered them all over the concrete floor of the dungeon Lab. 

‘We’re your friends, Harry!!’ 

He closed his eyes as he involuntarily reared back in the seat he’d taken in the abandoned classroom Hermione had picked out to have their little “Talk”, coincidently she’d forcefully pushed him into the chair, and had taken the marauder’s map from him to locate the suitable classroom to scream at him in; they might as well have tied him straight to the chair because they’d locked the door with ten different locking spells under their breaths and were pacing centimetres away from him like they were caged animals that hadn’t been fed in months and he was that one stupid kid that found it fascinating and was standing too close to their iron bars. 

‘Your best friends, mate!!’ 

Harry rolled his eyes as he breathed out heavily and adjusted himself on the hard, dusty chair. 

‘I know that.’ He said. 

‘You know we know you didn’t get those marks on your back from, what was it, smacking into a wall? Honestly, how stupid do you think we are? Even Snape didn’t look like he believed you…Did he do those to you?’ She stopped pacing a moment to stare, then started up again. ‘Were you actually stupid enough to do that idiotic dare Harry? Even drunk you should have the common sense to know that wasn’t at all a good idea!!’ She came to a standstill with her arms crossed over her breast and brows lowered in anger, straight before him, her shoes tapped his. ‘Well?’ She pressed. 

Harry didn’t know what to say, what could he say? He blinked and breathed out heavily, mouth opening and closing with no words escaping it. ‘I don’t know what to tell you Hermione, okay?’ He finally said, caving under her intense scrutiny. ‘I smacked into a wall, I skidded around a corner to fast while was running away. Yes, okay? I was stupid enough to do that dare while I was sloshed last night. He understood someone had screwed up his Lab alright? He gave chase. I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.’ 

“What am I doing?!” He practically screamed at himself for lying to his friends this way, for defending Snape when he clearly had done something and something very wrong on top of that. He frowned secondly as Hermione and Ron closed their eyes in distress. Harry wasn’t sure if their distress was for the same thing but it looked equally damning to him and the fact that for some reason he was defending Snape to his friend’s, worried him. 

That he’d even asked Snape to allow him to suck him off again merely for the reason that he didn’t want his first time doing such an action to be a memory of being forced to do so, and yet, by Snape’s words, he’d asked the very same person that had done so. It really didn’t make any sense, did it? Did it? 

‘Arg Harry!’ 

TWACK!

‘Ow!! Hermione!’ Harry grabbed at his head as he stepped back, shaking her hand of the vibrations that sung through Harry’s ears. ‘Why’d you do that?!’ He yelled loudly, eardrums buzzing from the force of the smack to the very top of his head, which, from last night’s stupefy incident, still hurt quite smartly. 

‘You’re an idiot!’ 

His green eyes widened and flicked over to his other best friend, Ronald, but seemed there were no interjections or help forthcoming from that end. The male was sitting atop a desk in the corner and holding his wand in his palm, rolling it backwards and forwards, completely nonplussed that their mutual friend was assaulting Harry. 

‘Why am I an idiot?’ 

‘Why would you even try to do that dare?’ 

‘I was drunk!’ He yelled. 

‘That isn’t an excuse Harry, it was Snape’s Lab; the very person in question’s name is enough to send off alarm bells!’ She yelled back. 

‘Well excuse me for not sensing alarm bells, whilst I was drunk!’ He felt he needed to defend himself here but she wasn’t giving him any room to stand defensively with his shouts and her wand, unlike his own which was in her pocket, was in her palm and aiming at his chest as they yelled at each other. 

‘Have you any idea what Snape would do if he found out you’re the one that destroyed his Laboratory?!’ She screeched. 

Harry opened and closed his mouth, eyebrows drawn down; well, yes, he could, in fact, he knew quite well what the man would do, in fact, had done. But he wasn’t about to shout that at her reddened face, which was so close to his right now. 

‘Is that so Miss Granger?’ 

Everything paused and the temperature dropped inside the old classroom as the door eased open as if it had never been locked in the first place and Snape slid himself inside with an eyebrow raised in intrigue, as if he hadn’t already known Harry had been the one to do so the night before. 

‘Um…N…’ 

Harry blinked and his mouth fell open as she floundered and looked sheepishly at Harry. The smallest hint of, I’m sorry, in her look as she directed her eyes at himself. 

‘Gee Hermione, thanks.’ He voiced as Snape stayed where he was. 

‘Perhaps you’d like to come with me Mister Potter. I believe you’ve some cleaning up to take care of? Yes? Or is Miss Granger wrong in her very accurate sounding assessment of your drunken exploits last night? We won’t be seeing any baby Potter’s in the near future, will we?’ 

Harry floundered, cheeks tinging pink in fluster while he quickly shook his head. 

‘No, well good. I take it Miss Granger didn’t glue you to that chair, merely frightened you into staying in it. Follow me.’ 

Harry swallowed nervously but did so, standing from his chair, sending a, are you kidding me, look over his shoulder at his friends as he left and sighed dramatically as they stepped down into the dungeons a few feet away. 

‘Was that necessary, sir?’ 

‘I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to hear your conversations Mister Potter, as much as the door was well locked, neither Mister Weasley or Miss Granger deemed fit to add a few silencing or muffling spells on the classroom you were screaming within. It was entertaining but I’m glad I put a stop to it. Miss Granger’s voice is quite shrill when she yells at you Potter and you do have a lot of cleaning to do, or did you forget that part?’ 

Harry sighed, ‘No sir…’ 

‘Mm. Off you go, I will be at the desk while you clean and no muttering below your breath. The stuff you will need is over there. Your wand…’ His wand was plucked from where he’d re-put it before leaving the classroom as Hermione handed it to him, ‘Will be over here with me…You’ll be cleaning by hand.’ 

‘Yes sir…’ Harry sighed.


End file.
